The Capacity to Forgive
by TheQueenOfTheFoxes
Summary: AUs3 Arthur has given up winning this battle against Morgana. Merlin isn't so hopeless. Blatant fix-it, bit of Merthur.


**Hello, readers! This is my first (finished) Merlin fic, so be sure to tell me what you think. I live off reviews. Were the characters OOC? (Besides Morgana, 'cause I know **_**she**_** is.**

**Update: edited this fic, decided I didn't like Arthur's character.**

**AU from season three onwards. **

**Warnings: Very slight merthur slash within and a very optimistic (unlikely) happy ending.**

**I don't own Merlin. **

Arthur paced furiously in the healing room, unable to take part in the battle because of the gash on his forearm, but unable to sit still.

"Arthur!" Merlin protested, trailing behind him. "Sit down! You need to rest."

"I can't!" the prince snarled, pacing all the faster.

"It'll be fine, sire," Merlin reassured him. "We'll win this battle. They don't need you out there right now, they need you to rest."

"NO!" Arthur roared, causing the rest of the patients to look up, startled. Arthur growled and dragged Merlin over to the corner. "No," he whispered, quieter. "We won't win, Merlin. Have you looked out a window recently?"

Merlin shook his head, startled. Arthur was admitting defeat? The prince pushed him over to a window, forcing him to look out at the battle. What he saw stunned him.

Carnage.

A mass of black outfitted soldiers surrounded the citadel, scant few red knights still fighting. Masses of Camelot's warriors and people lay dead in the streets, and Cenred's men battered at the citadel walls.

As Merlin watched, the men obeyed an indiscernible command from a superior and drew slowly back, until they were out of the lower towns and gathered around the gate. Arthur's men followed helplessly, still futilely fighting.

Merlin turned in horror to Arthur.

"Why did they retreat?"

"They can't get in the citadel," he replied grimly. "So they're starting a siege. And we won't last long. Most of the knights are dead already, save the ones in here. We can't win this, Merlin," he said the last in a quieter whisper, glancing around at the injured.

Merlin's mind was whirring, and he was not liking what it was telling him.

"Are you sure, Arthur? There's no chance?" Arthur placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"It'd take a miracle."

A miracle. Almost as if Arthur was giving him permission.

"I can arrange a miracle," he whispered to himself.

"What was that, Merlin?" Arthur asked sharply. Merlin shook his head, then changed his mind. It wouldn't matter soon, anyway.

"I said I can get you a miracle, Arthur." Merlin looked up into Arthur's eyes. "Just promise you won't hate me too much after."

Arthur looked confused, but Merlin only pulled him into a hug, closing his eyes tightly for a second. Then, as Arthur started to wrap his arms around him, Merlin mouthed a dry almost-kiss to the side of Arthur's mouth and pulled away.

Arthur was looking baffled, on the verge of saying something. Merlin didn't give him the chance.

He turned and ran, out of the room of injured soldiers, past the guards manning the door, and through the castle.

He passed window after window, gruesome scenes glimpsed through them. Cenred's men, cutting down the remains of Arthur's army like so many blades of grass, immortality beating down the natural laws.

Merlin ran up stairs, passed the signs of days on end of carnage, dead men littering the halls and rooms barricaded from the inside, filled with women and children.

Merlin was sure he should be feeling only fear of Arthur's response right now, for his almost-kiss and what he was about to do. But no, he was filled only with a sense of purpose and resolve and _knowing_ that he was doing something that was needed.

He ran and ran and ran, choosing not to use magic for fear of depleting the energy that he was certain would be needed for the oncoming conflict.

To the highest tower he ran, thinking to himself that it was such a cliché, but he needed the view of everything around the castle, so it couldn't be helped.

He reached the tower, climbed the last stairs, and was looking out over Camelot.

Bloodbath.

Mortal knights stood no chance against Cenred's immortals. The streets of the lower towns had been demolished, whoever found killed, but still the citadel remained impervious, that small mercy spared.

Now it was all the better that Cenred's army had withdrawn from the town, massed together in one crowd.

All the easier for Merlin to work his magic.

"Enough is enough," he whispered, and raised his hands. Time for Arthur's miracle. He sunk deep within his mind, drawing on his magic, pulling it to the forefront so as to better merge with his power.

Eyes flashed gold, and Merlin struck.

A wall of glimmering power slammed down on the battlefield, cleanly separating the opposing army from the remaining knights of Camelot. Cenred's army was swept back, horses and men falling over each other in a tumbling pile. The scattered men of Camelot only fell back a step, stunned.

And then, oddly enough, all of Cenred's horses seemed to be rising into the air.

Arthur would call Merlin hopeless and Gwen would deem it compassion, but Merlin knew it was wrong to punish the horses with their riders. They weren't to blame, after all.

And so, to the utter bewilderment of soldiers on both sides, Cenred's horses rose up and were set down on the edge of the forest. At Merlin's distant prompting, they took off into the trees.

And then Merlin snapped back into his power, concentrating, and lifted the entire immortal army up in the air, jumbled together and hanging in an invisible sack.

Merlin set them on fire.

He knew he would be sick when he was done, but if you can't stab something, you've got to burn it. In any case, he created a thick blanket of smoke to obscure the sight from anyone else and averted his own eyes. They weren't real people, he reminded himself. They were undead, and they were evil.

When the men were ashes he let them go, and charred pieces of man and armor wafted to the ground.

But Merlin caught those, too, before they could settle and taint the ground and blew gently out with his magic.

To the knights below, it appeared as if the ashes halted, elongated into a massive circle, and blew away. Some sunk into the ground before them, and in seconds trees had sprouted up in each spot, growth sped up until they were as tall as any oaks in the forest.

From Merlin's angle, he could see the trees forming a perimeter around Camelot. After all, the soldiers couldn't truly die.

But it was not finished. No, not yet. Merlin had dug his grave already, so he might as well bury himself.

As if on cue, as scream came from the woods, high and maniacal and insane.

"EMRYS!"

Merlin didn't reply. Instead he shot fireworks of magic into the air, giving away his location. The destruction of the army hadn't drained him. He was ready. She would come to him.

And she did. In barely ten seconds there was a flash of light and Morgana was across from him on the tower, seething and boiling with rage and madness. He kept his back to her, preparing himself for when she spotted him.

"Merlin? Where is Emrys? Tell me!"

Merlin took a deep breath and readied himself for the confrontation he had dreaded for years. He turned around, eyes still glowing, and Morgana gave a shriek, her own eyes widening in realization.

"You!" she screamed, and called down a lightning bolt to fry him. "It was you all along!"

It took little of his energy to deflect it, and then trap her onto the tower's roof. She would not be escaping.

"What have you done?" she screamed, and hit him with bolt after bolt, none having any more effect than the first. She stopped at last, and he approached her, the eye of the storm.

"It was you all along," Morgana whispered, a shell of the woman she used to be. "I hate you, Emrys!"

Merlin took another step towards her, and she raised hand, baring her teeth menacingly.

"Morgana," he said, preparing for another kind of battle. "You don't have to do this." The witch scoffed at him, and spat at his feet.

"Truly, Morgana. You could have been great. And… I am partially to blame." Merlin was talking half to himself, now. "Yes. I could have helped you, but… I was scared." He paused. "But I am not scared anymore. Come back, Morgana."

"To what?" she screamed, torn to pieces, and madly hurled another lightning bolt at him.

"To your brother," Merlin pressed, "Your friends."

"I have no friends! You are deluded, to think I still do. I will kill you," she promised in a low, deadly voice.

"You are the deluded one," Merlin countered, "If you think so little of the bond of friendship, the capacity to forgive and accept. Come back, Morgana, please. Let me cleanse you of this dark magic, let me give you a second chance."

The witch went into a frenzy, yelling insults and curses at the warlock and mixing physical punches and kicks with her lightning strikes.

"Please, Morgana!" Merlin yelled, dodging attacks. "Please let me bring you back!"

And Morgana fell to her knees and screamed, long and high and painful, and in her scream Merlin could hear words of denial, rage, hate, pain, and then: _"DO IT, EMRYS!" _

Merlin lunged, seizing Morgana by the chin and the forehead, tilting her head back towards the sky and mumbling a jumbled chant of incantations and nonsense words, letting his own inner magic guide him.

Morgana's black magic seeped out through her skin, a black-brown mist that oozed ominence and curled low to the ground and struck at Merlin like snakes. The warlock held on, though, until all the pollution was purged from Morgana's body, and only then did he draw back to deal with the power swirling around his feet.

Like a man with a snake he took it up, twisting in his hands, holding on and clamping shut its mouth, stilling the thrashing of its body.

He raised it above his head, and his eyes flashed with a brighter gold than before, and the tower lit up as the magic was morphed and mutated. Merlin flung it up with wide arms and it formed a golden circle that came down around Camelot to sink into the newly born trees.

And it was quiet. Morgana breathed silently, freely on the ground, and Merlin sagged against the side of the tower, spent. The wind was still, and the fight was over.

"Morgana," Merlin whispered, staggering over to her. "Can you stand?" Morgana sat up slowly, shakily, and stared at him. When tears started streaming from her eyes she stood, almost falling until Merlin tripped over and hauled her arm around his back.

"Emrys…" she whispered, hesitant. But Merlin shook his head.

"Merlin."

Silent tears slipped down Morgana's face.

Merlin somehow hauled them both down the stairs, and they slumped against the wall, faced with the disarray within. Merlin took mental stock of his energy and decided to risk some more, waving his hand and flashing gold. The hall was clean, blood wiped up and grime cleared, and both Merlin and Morgana could feel it spreading through the whole castle.

The battle was over.

The warlock hesitantly took another step and was relieved to see he didn't collapse.

"So powerful," Morgana whispered resignation. "You are so powerful, and you lived as a servant. You didn't allow hate to consume you." The unspoken _like me_ was there, and Morgana turned her face away in shame.

"A new start," Merlin reminded her, and pulled them slowly along the corridor. "Come on. We need to see Arthur."

Ah. _There _it was, there was the dread that should have filled him before. There was the terrible fear of what Arthur would think, say, do. Merlin took a deep breath, calming himself. At least, even if Arthur wanted to burn him at the stake, he had enough energy to escape. But he didn't want to leave. Didn't want to leave Arthur.

"Arthur doesn't know," Morgana stated. Merlin shook his head, and nothing more needed to be said. They continued onward.

They found Arthur in a hallway, quite unexpectedly. He seemed recovered, arm bandaged at least, and had his deep-in-thought face on. He seemed to be heading towards the tower they had departed from.

Both parties stopped dead, facing each other. Arthur saw Morgana, and he drew his sword.

"Arthur, stop." Merlin stepped forward, putting himself between the two siblings. Arthur lowered his sword, then brought it up, and appeared too conflicted to decide what to do, so kept it half raised.

"Merlin," he said steadily, "Get out of the way. She's obviously enchanted you." Merlin had to bark a laugh at that.

"As if she could," he said. "Arthur, it's okay. She's been purged of the dark magic. She's been given a second chance."

"Arthur," Morgana whispered, "I am sorry. I am so sorry." Arthur stared at her for half a second, then dropped his sword with a clang and rushed to pull his sister into an embrace. Morgana sobbed in his arms and Arthur joined her, weeping for both sorrow and joy.

"I owe everything to Merlin," Morgana told him, and they both looked at the warlock. "Thank you, Emrys."

"How?" Arthur asked, confused. "Merlin?" Merlin took a breath in preparation.

"I… I'm a warlock Arthur. I purged the dark magic from Morgana." Arthur was speechless, and his gaze snapped momentarily to his abandoned sword.

"And I saved Camelot," Merlin hurried to add. "I destroyed Cenred's army."

"I was watching from a window," Arthur said. "I didn't know what was happening. The army turned into trees."

Merlin nodded.

"And I purified the dark magic in Morgana and put it into them. They will seize anyone with intention to harm Camelot as they pass by."

"You're a warlock," Arthur said, dumbfounded. "A powerful warlock." Merlin nodded, and Morgana decided to speak up.

"He is the prophesized Emrys, the most powerful warlock ever to live." Arthur turned to gape at Morgana now, disbelieving.

"Our destinies are tied together, Arthur," Merlin said, voice wavering, "We are meant to rebuild Camelot into a prosperous kingdom of magic that will become legendary. I am sorry I hid this from you. I hope you can forgive me."

Exhaustion began to settle, and Merlin leaned one arm on the wall to keep himself standing. Arthur half started forward, but seemed reluctant to leave his newly restored sister.

"I need to think," he muttered, "But now is not the time. I must call a council meeting. I have to let the people know what has happened. Merlin, take Morgana to her chambers. I will send Gwen. Hide there with her until I get all this sorted."

Merlin nodded and staggered over to Morgana.

"I can transport us straight there," he said wearily. "Arthur…" Before he could say anything else Arthur pulled him close into a hug, grasping to him as if he would never let him go. Then he did, and picked his sword up from the ground, sheathing it.

"Go," he said. "I will handle the kingdom for now."

"Lancelot knows," Merlin blurted, "By accident. Just if you need someone to talk to about this immediately. He can help. You don't have to process all this by yourself."

Arthur nodded.

"I will consult him. Thank you. And Merlin, I could never hate you." And he was gone.

Merlin swayed with emotion for a moment, then grasped Morgana's arm and concentrated, and they were in Morgana's chambers.

Merlin could no longer stay standing, and collapsed on Morgana's bed. Morgana herself sat down hard in a chair, almost as exhausted as Merlin.

"Thank you, Merlin," Morgana said, "I don't… I can never… I truly do owe you everything." Merlin could only close his eyes and let his mind go blank.

Sometime later Merlin was awoken by a crash. He sat up quickly and blinked around, only to find Gwen was staring at Morgana, a tray of food fallen at her feet.

Morgana struggled to stand, and barely managed it.

"Gwen…" she said, "I…" Gwen looked from Morgana to Merlin in confusion.

"She's not evil anymore," Merlin said by way of explanation. "I'm a warlock, and I saved Camelot and purified her magic." Then he collapsed on the bed again, too tired to sit up any longer.

"Gwen…" Morgana repeated, "I am so-" But she didn't even get the words out. Gwen stepped over the food and pulled Morgana into a bone-crushing hug, sobbing. Morgana was crying again too, and Merlin was getting sick of teary reconciliations.

When all seemed to be settling down, Merlin's tired brain finally noticed the food.

"Gwen," he said hoarsely, "Is that food on the ground? Only, I can't stand up." Gwen gave a hiccupping laugh and gathered the food together, dumping it unceremoniously on the bed. She helped Morgana over and all three sat cross-legged on the blanket, eating eagerly.

They sat talking on the bed until Merlin fell asleep, and he knew no more until another loud noise woke him.

It was the door banging open, and Arthur was standing in it. Gwen and Morgana were still on the bed chatting, remnants of food around them. All three sat up attentively.

"Well," Arthur said, exhaling hard and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Everything's been decided." He paused.

"Well?" Gwen asked, anxious. "What will happen?" She gripped Morgana's hand fearfully, and reached out and laid the other on Merlin's shoulder.

"I've managed to… persuade the council," here Arthur grinned, "That the magic used to defeat the army meant us no harm. Morgana, I explained that you were being controlled by Morgause, and have now been freed from her clutches."

"But I wasn't," Morgana protested, "Those choices were my own." Arthur nodded.

"I know. But I cannot just instill in the council the same forgiveness that I harbor. They would have you killed. Please, go along with it." Morgana bowed her head.

"And me?" Merlin said, speaking up. "Will you have me killed?" Arthur gaped at him, speechless.

"If I'm not going to persecute Morgana, who tried to destroy Camelot," he said slowly, "Then why one earth would I harm someone who saved it? And you, no less!"

Merlin's face burned, and he broke into a grin.

"I sent men out to see to the lower town," Arthur said. "Many were killed, but some survived. Reparations are being made as we speak."

"I can help with that," Merlin said, "If you want."

"I had noticed that the castle is not quite as wrecked as it was," Arthur mused. "Your doing, I suppose. Well, as long as you are not seen. Everyone already knows there's some kind of magic helping them, anyway."

"I'm to be coronated as soon as the kingdom has settled down," Arthur added, and reached out and grasped Merlin's shoulder. "And then we can see how to start this whole destiny thing."

Merlin gaped at Arthur, shocked beyond belief.

"Just like that?" he asked, almost hysterical, "I save the kingdom, get Morgana back and tell you I'm a warlock, and hours later you come back and accept everything, make everything right? Just like that? No denial, no anger, nothing? I had nothing to worry about?"

"Well," Arthur admitted, grinning, "I had a long talk with Lancelot, like you suggested. And then Gaius. So I've already gotten through the anger and denial. You were right to tell me to talk to someone. I've done a lot of thinking, and this is what came of it. Do you have any objections?"

Merlin mutely shook his head.

"Very well. By the way, would you have any problems with being made Court Warlock in a few days?"

Merlin fainted.

He woke in his own bed. Arthur was sitting in a wooden chair beside it.

"Gaius is getting more food," he said, when he saw Merlin was awake. "I thought you'd be hungry again."

"Famished."

"Well, I haven't yet said thank you, Merlin," Arthur said. "You saved Camelot, returned Morgana to us, and opened my eyes. So thank you."

"No problem," Merlin said. "Court Warlock, did you say?" Arthur nodded.

"Indeed. I'll need a magical advisor if I'm going to bring magic back to Camelot."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Merlin said. "I know some people."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Arthur laughed, and drew Merlin to his chest in another hug, nuzzling his face into Merlin's neck and brushing his lips below his ear. "Good work, Merlin."

"Thanks," Merlin mumbled.

"But really, the horses?" It took the warlock a moment to process the statement.

"They didn't do anything wrong!" Arthur chuckled, holding Merlin closer.

"Hopeless."


End file.
